Baby Sitting Blues
by She-Wolf
Summary: It's not easy being the prince of the Musk. Nope, not at all particularly when a neighboring tribe decides to use blackmail in exchange for a special..... favor.


**Baby Sitting Blues**

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing! Herb, Lime, Mint and everything else Ranma 1/2 is the property of the goddess Rumiko Takahashi.  
  
This story takes place after that whole "Phoenix mountain" incident, so don't read if you haven't caught the end of the manga and hate spoilers.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
***********  
  
Dante was wrong.  
  
Dante was so very, very wrong.  
  
Hell was not a pit of smoldering heat and flame, reeking of brimstone and repugnant rotting flesh, the screams of the damned echoing throughout as they suffered unimaginable tortures in compensation for their sins committed during their past life. No, hell was much, much worse. Prince Herb could attest to that. Even as he cringed from every sight, every sound around him, the leader of the Musk couldn't help but wonder what sort of karmic disaster had he possibly caused that he should suffer such a horrid fate.  
  
*BANG*  
  
"I AM SO GREAT! I AM SO GREAT!"  
  
*BANG*  
  
Why in Jusenkyo hadn't he fallen on his own energy sword yet?  
  
Herb's eyes narrowed at his bane. Saffron, prince of the Phoenix mountain bird people, who would one day be a one of the most powerful rulers in all of the Quing Hai Province, was currently marching around in his toddler state, banging on a pair of old pans with a colander on his head. He was marching, and banging. He was marching, banging and yelling, all in a very un-prince like manner, though common sense ruled it perfectly natural behavior for a three year old.  
  
*BANG*  
  
"I AM SO GREAT! I AM SO GREAT! EVERYBODY LOVES ME, I AM SO GREAT!  
  
*BANG*  
  
.......okay, almost natural behavior then.  
  
*BANG*  
  
By the dragons, had he been this idiotic as a child?  
  
For Herb, the unquestionable and undisputed prince of the Musk tribe, the strongest, most formidable and hardened group male warriors that China had ever produced, it was unbearable; the pots, the pans, the goddamn banging. He was going to have a serious talk with Kiima, screwing him over like this. He'd pluck her feathers, boil her in oil, and donate the carcass to starving peasants. Or perhaps a foreigner "Roast Chicken " franchise; they said that fat birds were all the rage during dinnertime in the Western nations. Why, the weight in her posterior alone would probably feed an entire family!  
  
Frowning in his chair and sitting aloof inside the royal chambers of Phoenix Mountain, Herb carefully evaluated how he had been roped into this predicament: baby-sitting the reborn, but still very formidable Prince Saffron. It had started, innocently enough, when Captain Kiima and her two associates Koruma and Masara had arrived at his door, requesting an audience.  
  
Kiima had begged.  
  
Kiima had pleaded.  
  
Kiima had walked into the Musk palace in a tight spandex number that barely covered any of what was beneath, causing over half Herb's men to require immediate transfusions from loss of blood, while the other half became so incoherent they could only sputter as she walked casually through his throne room, her associates snapping up photos of the entire royal guard.  
  
Kiima played dirty pool.  
  
Damn the women, threatening Herb that if he didn't agree to her demands, she'd circulate set film among the locals. Set film and another handful of rather ....riské pictures, taken of his female form bathing. Herb didn't know how in the hell she'd gotten those, although he interrogated half his men and both of Kiima's followers to find out. This accomplished nothing, so Herb left the matter in the hands of Mint and Lime, who actively volunteered to take over. He would have let them continue too, if Lime hadn't blurted out that they wanted to find out so they could take some for themselves. This, of course, earned them both a trip several hundred miles away.  
  
In the end, Kiima won her battle; the idea of slack jawed youths seeing his nude female form was a torture too large for Herb to bare. He succumbed to the blackmail and agreed to her terms, provided that they were temporary, and that he'd get the negatives as well as any processed shots. When it was all over, he'd light a bonfire and burn them to a crisp. Although, Herb was starting to wonder if the photographic torture could possibly be worth the torture he was forced to endure right now.  
  
That was the catch with Kiima's demands: no one else could follow them. Ordinarily, when Herb did a favor for another, he did it by sending Lime, Mint, or another Musk soldier out to complete the task. Such was the privilege of one as high-ranking as he. However, as Kiima pointed out, very few people could move about the Phoenix mountain palace without the ability to fly. Even the outsider, Ranma, had fallen to ground traps numerous times, and in the end been forced to use the Kinjakan to keep up. Fortunately, and Herb grit his teeth at the succulent smile Kiima had been wearing as she said this, Prince Herb was renown throughout the province for his chi manipulation abilities and, in particular, his ability to fly without the aide of wings. Years of boasting came crashing down in his face; it appeared he'd have to leave Lime and Mint home on this one.  
  
So now he, Herb, the crown prince of the Musk dynasty,the most powerful warrior in all of China, a man feared by nearly all he came across, was forced to play nursemaid to a child ruler with a superiority complex and a temper almost as short as his own. All so Kiima and the rest of the Phoenix tribe could 'take a night off', or more appropriately, be spared another evening of Saffron-style torment. Even the age-old, spineless retainer had left; something about needing a night to calm his nerves, and joining his comrades at a local pub. Probably getting drunk off their collective asses, while he suffered in silence, the bunch of bird brains. Life was *so* not fair........  
  
*BANG*  
  
Herb buried his face in his hands. Maybe when he looked up again, Saffron would be finished.  
  
*BANG*  
  
No such luck.  
  
*BANG*  
  
"I will not hurt this boy, I will not hurt this boy....." Herb uttered his resolve over and over, even as his fangs clashed, determined not to snap. He had given his word, as a dragon's decedent, that no harm would come to the Phoenix heir during the duration of his stay; certainly none at the hands of Herb. For the sake of peace, it was a promise he made, and a promise he would keep.  
  
*BANG*  
  
No matter how much it hurt.  
  
Finally, after deciding to give his caretaker a break, or, more likely, after getting bored with his current activity, Saffron's insane clatter came to a halt. He took of the colander which had sufficed as ordinate headgear and tossed it to the wall, the pots and pans following suit. It was time to find something else amusing, and since nothing immediately came to the young boy's mind, he decided it was time to ask his new nursemaid. Stepping over to his fellow royal, Saffron chose a reasonable course of action in gaining Herb's attention. He grabbed the dragon's cape and gave it a good, solid yank; all while announcing his presence in his own, stately manner.  
  
"AUNTIE HERB!!"  
  
Herb stiffened, and narrowed his eyes. That was another thing he truly hated about the brat. When first reintroduced to Prince Saffron after his rebirth, Herb was preparing to throttle the lot of them for the "accident" which resulted in the loss of Jusenkyo and any potential cures in which the waters might have held. Unfortunately, to further prove his point, he been in his cursed state at the time. While the dragonian anger was eventually subsided after hearing that Ranma, not Saffron, had been responsible for the removal of the cursed waters, another matter sprung up. While he was there, Saffron's henchman, Masara, had made an utterly ridiculous joke about Herb now really being a 'princess' and that the youthful heir should call him his 'aunt'. Saffron, imprinting little chick that he was at the time, picked up on it immediately and refused to let the matter drop. From then on Prince Herb was forever branded "Auntie Herb" in the boy's presence. Masara skipped China for a week afterwards too, denying Herb the pleasure of snapping his wishbone; the feathered coward.  
  
The Musk prince peered down at his new charge. "What is it, brat?"  
  
"I'm board."  
  
What a pity. Not. Maybe now Herb could relax. "Too bad."  
  
Saffron was uninhibited by his baby-sitter's total lack of empathy. "Wanna play a game!" He stated his mind again, this time more firmly.  
  
"Forget it." Herb settled comfortably into his chair. He had agreed to watch the little monster for a few hours, and that was all he was going to do- watch. No way was he going to sacrifice any more of his pride by doing something as ridiculous as play a game. No wa-  
  
Saffron evidentially didn't get the response he wanted to. Pouting, and stamping his foot on the floor, he decided it was time to resort to higher measures in gaining the dragon descendant's full cooperation "Hhhhuuuuuh." he started.  
  
Herb's eyes shot wide open. Oh no.  
  
"HHHuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh."  
  
Ohhhhhh no.  
  
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"  
  
Herb nearly flew out of his seat, picking up the toddler in one swoop as he continued to wail. "Wait, wait! Did I say I wouldn't play? I meant I would, really! Just please, oh please, STOP THAT RACKET!" There were times when Herb truly despised his animal hearing. This was one of them.  
  
Surprisingly, Saffron stopped. Then he continued, louder then ever. Then he stopped again.  
  
"Really?" He glared at Herb, preparing another earful.  
  
"Really!" Had it still been in existence, Herb would have jumped gleefully into the spring of drown rodent to get Saffron to shut up.  
  
Saffron appeared to consider this, before letting out a giggle,even as Herb felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine at the evil little eyes cast in his direction. "Don't want to." Saffron started to wail, again.  
  
"Da-drat." Herb barely remembered that he wasn't suppose to curse in front of children. Kiima had made that one very clear; prince or no prince he's be sewing his armor for weeks if Saffron picked up the slightest hint of bad language. So he cursed mentally instead, promising once again a slow and lingering death to the ones who brought him to this when they returned. If they returned. Were it not for the Surikomi eggs, and the loyalty they induced, Herb suspected most of Saffron's followers would have flown the coop years ago. Looking back, he wasn't the least bit surprised they were all so desperate for a night out.  
  
He also cursed the Phoenix mountain tribe's lack of discipline when it came to their childhood prince. If he had pulled anything like this as a child, his father would have him with a sore ass and a higher number of push up drills then he could count. Such was the fate of the Musk; even the prince wasn't above taking a beating, while Saffron could do anything and everything he pleased. Possibly a touch of jealousy appeared on his face, but it passed. He, at least, had not grown up to be spoiled. Arrogant and ruthless, yes, but spoiled, no.  
  
Eventually, either through his own will or tired vocal cords, Saffron finally stopped wailing, with Herb all too grateful. The phoenix looked up at the dragon with a pair of big eyes and a little smile.  
  
"What we gonna play?"  
  
Herb considered that. Truthfully, he had no idea what to do with the boy now. He had no intentions of leaving the mountain; aside from the fact that someone might recognize him, there were simply too many things out there that a curious three year old might encounter, and not all of them 'nice'. Lamentably, Herb doubted he would be able to convince the Phoenix tribe their prince had been "accidentally" eaten by a tiger, no matter how true the statement might have ended up. No, they were staying indoors, and that was that.  
  
Tag? No, that would mean exerting energy to catch the little rug rat,who was a lot harder to catch then Herb would normally give credit for. For a toddler, he was a speedy little demon; Herb suspected that even Mint would be in awe. Hide and seek? Not a chance, then there was no telling where the brat might escape to. Herb considered using trickery, deliberately shutting the boy in some lower-level closet for a few hours, then let him out before Kiima's return, but finally decided against that. Although the idea had merit, there'd be no telling what kind of headaches he'd be in for when Saffron grew up. Besides, Herb had no intention of ending up like Nutmeg, the stupid Musk boy who'd played the same prank on Herb himself during his youth. There was a saying amidst the Musk- don't play pranks on a young prince. Particularly pranks that caused the prince to spend over an hour in fear and suffocation. All in all, it ended quite poorly for Nutmeg, especially since Herb hadn't learned the meaning of 'mercy' just yet.  
  
He needed something quiet. Something that would keep the child shut-up for the remaining duration of his stay, and give him a chance to relax for a change. Something simple, something clever. Have him watch the paint peel? Tell him to count the elaborate roof tiles overhead? Hmmm, no, there needed to be a pretense. Saffron had to *want* to do such a task. Something that would have him sitting and keeping silent....  
  
Herb's eyes lit up. Yes, THAT would do nicely.  
  
"Let's play a royal game...." Herb's voice became saccharine sweet as the boy listened carefully. "Something only *princes* play."  
  
The false sincerity worked. Saffron clapped his hands in delight. "Wanna play that!"  
  
"Okaaaaaaaay." Herb set the boy down. "Here's what you do." He motioned to the floor. " Sit. Here. Be quiet. Do. Not. Move." Herb waved his finger in front of Saffron's nose. "If you can keep quiet and sit still as long as I'm here, I'll show you a trick."  
  
Saffron nearly clapped again before he remembered the game. Instead, he smiled and nodded, sitting down and keeping still.  
  
Herb chuckled under his breath as he made his way back to the chair, pulling out a copy of the Jusenkyo Gazette and flipping through the pages as he did so. Inside, he felt like applauding his ingenuity. Oh yes, this would do quite nicely.  
  
  
  
Five minutes went by.  
  
Fifteen minutes went by.  
  
Saffron didn't budge. Rather, as he persisted to remain perfectly still, he opted to watch his "Auntie Herb" as he continued to read the paper in peace, chuckling at the latest blunder of the Amazon tribe and promising a violent and slow death to the idiot who had insulted the Musk in the editorials section. Occasionally Herb would pear over his reading material to observe Prince Saffron, who would observe him right back. All was calm. All was peaceful.  
  
For about a half hour.  
  
Finally, during one of Herb's glances, he caught himself looking Saffron right in the eye, as the boy stood in front of his face. Unfortunately, the phoenix prince had evidentially become tired of sitting still.  
  
"Auntie Herb?"  
  
"What is it, brat?"  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
Herb furrowed his brow. The last thing he wanted to do was put up with any more of Saffron's childish demands. "Can't it wait?"  
  
"NO!" Saffron slammed his foot on the ground, causing a minute crackle to appear. How the mountain remained in one piece with this boy was a question Herb would never be able to solve. "Hungry!" Saffron said decidedly. "Want food NOW!" The phoenix prince's arms crossed, as he started to pout. Herb considered telling the little beast off, but then wisely decided against it. No reason to tempt another wailing. Besides, Captain Kiima and the old geezer had told him to feed the little monster at some point, and now was as good a time as any.  
  
"Come on then, brat."  
  
Picking up his youthful charge, Herb floated gently down to one of the lower levels, where the dining hall and kitchen could be found. Pushing aside the cherry wood doors with ease, he lifted an eyebrow at the surprisingly foreign and casual appearance of the room. Where the rest of Saffron's mountainside palace was elaborately decorated in nothing less but the highest quality of Chinese finery, the cooking area resembled something of a country kitchen, with pale yellow curtains hanging over the open windows and ceramic tiling lined the floor. There was a monumental refrigeration area, even as clean white counter tops graced beneath polished oak shelves and cabinets. A small, round wooden table graced the center of the room, while the day's remaining sunlight glinted through the windows and onto a rack of stainless steel cooking implements, hanging over an ordinary pantry. Offhand, Herb's eyes glanced at an open magazine, left on the counter by the room's normal occupants. It was written by a 'Martha' somethingorother.  
  
Placing a now gleeful Saffron on the table, Herb moved to the pantry. Having already decided he would rather stroll around Musk headquarters in topless female form then actually attempt to cook something (a demeaning task, not fit for royalty unless it was using his own energy and bare hands), his first instinct was to find a food already prepared. Surely one of the cooks had left something that was easy to prepare, incase the brat was hungry. He opened both the pantry's doors, allowing Saffron to see the contents, then began rummaging through an assortment of dry goods, hoping to find something the boy would eat. He'd make his way to the freezer area for some meat to satisfy his own hunger later.  
  
Suddenly, Saffron stood on the table top, smiling wildly and pointing to a box directly over Herb's head. "Want THAT!" He clapped his hands in delight.  
  
Herb looked up, and carefully removed the package from its position. Flipping it over on the side, he read the ingredients and frowned. Of course: sugar, sugar, and even more pure sugar. Riiiiiight, like he was going to give something that would make a three year old even more hyper. Herb still had nightmares about the time Mint discovered the foreign concoction of "pixie sticks". It had taken a full day for the effect to wear off, never mind the untold psychological scars caused as his men peeled the wolf-boy off the walls. No, for Saffron's health (and Herb's sanity), he would be eating something else. "Forget it."  
  
"Why not?" Saffron crossed his little arms.  
  
"Because it'll rot your teeth, and then I'd have to break them." Herb leveled his eyes at the phoenix boy, who, for the first time since Herb had arrived, gave an involuntary shiver. Suddenly Saffron didn't feel like arguing the matter, and sat down in silence. His stomach however, let off a tiny growl, alerting Herb that it was time he ended his search.  
  
Eventually, the Musk prince settled on one of the large packages of mixed bird seed, filling up a bowl and handing it, with a spoon, to the child who dug in with admirable speed. To satisfy his own hunger, which abruptly started growing by the minute, Herb stepped over to the huge freezer. Pulling open the door, it was revealed that the freezer was actually an enormous cold storeroom. A very, very cold storeroom; Herb shivered on contact. Warm chi enveloped his body as he stepped in, grabbed the first piece of sustenance available, a large hanging mackerel, and stepped out. More chi poured from his fingers, flash-frying the food in an instant; soon Herb joined Saffron in wolfing down dinner.  
  
  
  
Licking lips with satisfaction, Saffron blinked, his attention returning to his "Auntie Herb" as he finished devouring his own meal. "Now what?" he asked with more then a spark of curiosity.  
  
"Hmmm?" Herb's eyebrow raised, gaze returning to the youth, then out the window, where the sun started to set. Hadn't the old geezer left instructions when it became late? Not that he intended to follow any weakling orders of course, but perhaps they would reveal the end of this farce. Pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment from his cloak, Herb checked. Nothing but chicken scratch, couldn't these feathered dolts write clearly? Then again, writing clearly would require normal hands, something Saffron's people didn't always possess. Scrolling it over several times, he was able to make out two words: 'bath' and 'bed'.  
  
A bath...... in the mountain's famous hot spring bathhouse no doubt. Humph, well, both Jusenkyo and Jusendo had given their lives for that water, might was well take a dip. Besides, a hot bath might be just what he needed to unwind, and judging by the smell of things, the brat could use one as well. Once again, Herb picked up Saffron, and the duo were off.  
  
  
  
"Mmmmmm......" Herb sighed in contentment as the soothing warm water massaged his back mussels and carried away the day's tensions. Magnificent; Herb was an avid fan of hot baths, and this was one of the best. While the kitchen was surprising in its simplicity, the royal bath chambers were nothing short of exquisite. Marble met precious jade and gold, touching every decorative spout and structure while keeping in perfect balance with the Feng Shui design scheme. Too the side he observed Saffron, splashing lightly and playing in content with a large rubber duck and an inflated lobster. Perhaps it was unfitting that royalty share a bath, let alone that Herb himself share one, but as long as Saffron didn't dare attempt to start splashing his elder, Herb didn't mind. Ahh, bliss.  
  
Smiling, Herb reached over and grabbed a small object, hurling it at the boy with Musk speed and velocity. Missing the phoenix's head purposely by a few inches, the item fell into the warm water with a resounding *splash*. Startled, Saffron glared at Herb, then picked the item out with curiosity. In his small hands, he now held a bar of lavender soap.  
  
"Don't forget to scrub hard, brat." Herb muttered even as he reached for a bottle of shampoo. Bringing the container near his face, he allowed a whiff of the pleasing flowered scent to enter his nostrils before squirting some onto his hands and rubbing thoroughly into his own scalp. Clean, condition, rinse and comb; Herb took pride in his appearance, particularly with his hair. Unlike an unmentionable martial artist Japanese boy who was content with a single pigtail, Herb groomed his locks so they fell like silk, growing as long as they would and keeping them at bay only with a single set of combs in the back.  
  
Speaking of shampoo....... there was one other task in his current chore he needed to take care of. Saffron had begrudgingly soaped his skin, but he hadn't so much as touched his hair. Time for a special technique. Ducking low, the dragon price crept over to the shallow ends of the bath, where the phoenix child had returned to amusing himself with the lobster. His back, Herb noted, was turned away from his caretaker; perfect.  
  
Prince Saffron was enjoying his bath. While most children his age might have scoffed or put up a fight, he had been raised as a prince, and thus, like every other prince in China, understood the merits behind good grooming. Besides, bath time meant he could have fun with his rubber ducky and lobster toy, while splashing about in the warm water as much as he wished. So, Prince Saffron liked baths. Unfortunately, he was so absorbed in his current activity, that he failed to notice the dragon at his back... until he heard Herb's battle cry.  
  
"Xi Fa Xiang Gao Revised! SUPER SAFFRON SCRUBBER!!!"  
  
In fifty-six seconds, Saffron's hair was scrubbed, rinsed, dried and rebound in pigtails. The youthful prince could do nothing but gape at the empty air while his scalp felt remarkably refreshed. Herb smirked, tossing the shampoo aside. No matter how different their tribes might have been, there would always be a place of respect in his heart for the Chinese Amazons. Female or not, some of their techniques, like the Xi Fa Xiang Gao, came in quite handy. That one was easy to modify as well; as long as one didn't use formula 411, no memory damage would remain.  
  
Getting up, and obscuring any delicious female fantasies by wrapping a towel securely around his waste, Herb allowed hot chi to encompass himself once more, lightly warming up the air and drying off the water. He changed into his proper clothing and secured his scale armor, flexing slightly as he checked the tightness. As an after thought, he reached back into the water with one arm, grabbing the still bemused Saffron and using more energy to dry him off in a similar manner before throwing him into his own cloths. The boy was fed and bathed; all that remained was to set the little monster off to bed. Then he could await the return of Saffron's subjects and get the hell back to his own palace. Still, Herb was willing to admit that the bath had been refreshing, and the look on the brat's face after scrubbing was priceless. Hopefully, bedtime would go as smoothly.  
  
  
  
Of course, nothing ever goes smoothly when you expect it will. Chaos has a delicious little habit of interfering every now and then. Just when you think the worst is over, it all comes back to hit you in the face. After predictions of sunshine, when you finally take that picnic, you get rain; the cycle continues. Bedtime for Saffron was no exception. Herb had simply assumed that, after spending so much energy wailing, banging and splashing, the boy would naturally feel tired and eagerly await a long night's rest.  
  
Herb was wrong, wrong, wrong.  
  
"Don't wanna go to bed!" In a bright orange sleeper with wing holes, Saffron was flapping away frantically. Was he willing to admit he a softer side, Herb might have conceded that it was an incredibly adorable sight; the normally overdressed prince of Phoenix Mountain wearing one of those little fuzzy suits with the zipper in front and the covered feet. Fuzzy, orange, and with a little yellow duck emblazoned on the side, it was still a wonder how Herb had managed to hold onto Saffron long enough to place it over him. Kiima had obviously picked it out special, demonstrating both remarkable smart taste in children's clothing, and showing the world that even with his spoiled attitude and titanic temper, Saffron could still pass as cute with the right wardrobe.  
  
Ahem, anyway, Saffron was in a sleeper, and he was flying as quickly his little wings would allow him, keeping out of the reach of his sitter and threatening to leave the mountain entirely. It's truly amazing how much energy kids can have, and how fast they'll move when given the proper motivation. The very child that takes hours to walk to school has been known to run at the speed of light after hearing the words "ice cream". For Prince Saffron, he had all the motivation he needed in the growing wrath of the dragon below.  
  
"You're going if I have to strap you to the blankets, brat!" Herb cursed and swore under his breath, his energy rapidly depleting as he used up his reserves to speed up his increased flight. If he switched into female form, his speed would increase enough possibly to catch the bird. Only problem was, the amount of chi he would be able to master would severely drop, and Herb would never be able to fly high enough to catch Saffron for long. There was no choice; Herb forced himself to increase his output of chi and attempt to snatch the little monster. On a positive note, running after Saffron was probably the best endurance training he'd had in a long while.  
  
The dragon prince growled. "Get back here!"  
  
"Make me!" Saffron stuck out his little tongue in a very un-prince like manner, taunting and teasing as he continued to flap his wings furiously.  
  
Herb's concern doubled as Saffron moved to an open window. Damn, if Saffron got loose outside there was no telling what further hell he'd be in for! As it was, Herb could only thank Budda Saffron wasn't wielding the Kinjakan. Then he'd never be able to keep up.  
  
Herb needed something to use against the brat, quick. It was time for some heavy aerial maneuvers. Placing his palms together, Herb suddenly stopped pursuit, but remained where he was floating in mid air as heat radiated from the core of his body.  
  
The surprising motion caused Saffron to abruptly stop his getaway, transfixed on Herb's motionless form. He had been certain Herb wanted to catch him, so why the sudden halt? He gasped, his eyes wide, as he caught the aura of power encircling his sitter, and aura growing larger and larger by the passing moment. So much energy, so much raw power..... what was Herb going to *do*? A stray image of himself as a beaten, burned and crispy side dish appeared in Saffron's mind, before he desperately shook it away. Herb couldn't possibly think of blasting him, could he?! No, he wouldn't dare! His people would hunt the Musk to the ends of the earth if that were so; even the beast men would be unable to resist an all-out aerial attack of that magnitude. It was one of the reasons most tribes in Quing Hai avoided conflicts with each other: because with the diverse powers and fighting techniques of the region, there was always the threat that the other side could give an attack bigger then your own.  
  
Then again, if ever there was a tribe that liked a good fight, the Musk would be it.  
  
Herb, however, was uninterested in blowing the boy to bits. Nor was he about to destroy the mountain palace. Regardless of how much stress that single action might alleviate, paying for the damages would likely eat up the Musk royal bank accounts. No, he had something much less....... destructive in mind.  
  
"Musk Dragon Clan Ultra Final Technique: The Yin Yang Fascination!"  
  
The energy Herb had built up was released in one tremendous blast. Above his head, swirling hot chi mixed with a cool variant, together slowly forming an image of the imperial phoenix and dynastic dragon,together intwined as they locked in combat. It was much more then an ordinary picture however. Even as Saffron gazed, the expressiveness and illusion of movement made the vision appear as if it had come to life; the dragon's grandeur and magnitude matching the phoenix's fast flames and natural dexterity. The life energy shifted in waves of brilliance, the light emitted finding its way through the ultraviolet spectrum as it pushed against the very air in which it was suspended. It was beautiful. It was perfection. It was art at a height only a master could ever wish to achieve. The child prince could only stare at the magnificent display before him.  
  
"Gotcha!"  
  
With near blinding speed, Herb captured a transfixed Saffron in his arms, the boy too dazzled to give resistance until it was too late. Struggling, Saffron soon realized it was no use; like the dragon and the phoenix, his opponent was far stronger then he, and Saffron hadn't enough leverage to apply the speed for his escape. Crossing his arms, he allowed himself to be carried off to his bed chambers...... but under protest.  
  
  
  
"There!" Herb dusted off his hands and looked over his handiwork. Not bad; following through on his earlier threat, he had literally strapped the youthful Saffron to his enormous bed. Why a child like Saffron needed a bed large enough to hold five people was beyond him, but then Herb didn't argue much with displays of wealth. Besides, his own bed wasn't much smaller. Absently, the Musk prince picked up a stuffed panda lying at the side of the room and tucked it in with the bed's occupant, despite his continued attempts to break free. "Even Lime couldn't break those bonds. Give it up and go to sleep, brat."  
  
Turning to the door, Herb began to make his way out of the room, prepared to turn out the lights and return to the lower levels for the rest of the night.  
  
Saffron pouted, even as he wriggled. The rope, leather straps and iron chains (which really were overkill on Herb's part) might have stopped him from running away, but he wasn't done yet. There was still one more option other then sleep, one which, now that his throat was fully healed, he could employ.  
  
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"  
  
At his next step, Herb fell flat on his face. Temper on edge, he forgot what it was he wasn't suppose to say in front of children and viciously whirled around as he regained footing. "Damn it brat, what the hell is wrong with you?! You've played a game, been fed, had a bath, ran through half the palace already! What else could you possibly want?!"  
  
Saffron wasn't intimidated. Still angry, he started to huff. "Want a story," he challenged, with an air of defiance.  
  
Herb felt a drop of unnerving sweat fall down his forehead. "A..... story?" He began questioning his own hearing.  
  
"A story!" It was settled in Saffron's mind. He was not going to sleep until he got what he wanted, and he wanted a story. If he didn't get one then he'd wail all night, and then his Auntie Herb would *really* be in for it.  
  
"Fine." Herb made his way back to the bed, pulling up a stool. A story, a story...... something like those his father told him when he was Saffron's age? No, they were enjoyable but far to gory for one not of the Musk. A fairy tale? To immature; Musk princes never told fairy tales, ever. Besides, who needed fiction when reality was strange enough as it was?  
  
"This is a story about a boy with a curse who couldn't keep to his own business. A boy who, while still a worthy opponent and with fairly nobel intentions, comes from a very backwards country, and believes he has the right to interfere in other affairs of others, such as attempting to stop them from reaching the one thing that will allow them to regain their proper forms, or preventing them from undergoing transformations that will benefit their people. Transformations that, while blocking off important water sources temporarily, would not have done so in the permanent fashion that the boy's preventative measures did. Nor did the boy think of the can of worms he opened up when revealing that one of such a higher stature had a curse which altered his form in ways his companions would not ignore. The boy even disregarded the rules of the local women, taking the very best for wife only to spurn her advances."  
  
Saffron genuinely intrigued, for the rest of the night Herb continued to retell the story of Ranma's encounters with the people of the Quing Hai province; carefully skipping over the parts about the Phoenix people's attack on the little Plum girl, Herb's own tossing of the Akane girl, the locking of Ranma's curse, the kiss of death, and the fact that Ranma eventually defeated all the champions. Such details were of little importance to royalty such as themselves anyway.  
  
  
  
Eventually, the evening came to a close as Captain Kiima, along with the old retainer and Koruma, flew through the mountain entrance. Masara was such a coward, refusing to return until Herb was gone. As if the prince was really going to turn him into Kentucky Fried.  
  
Curious, as she stepped about the royal living quarters, Kiima noticed that Herb was not there. She had been certain he would be sitting in his chair when she arrived, his eyes glistening with the promise of slow pain for any indignities he had suffered. Then she would pleasantly ignore him, hand over the photographic blackmail, and be done with it. Yet Herb was no where to be found. The living area, the kitchen, the royal baths (Kiima sent Koruma to investigate those), all the areas proved empty of their visitor.  
  
Alarm etched upon Kiima's features. Had the blackmail failed to work? Rather, had Herb used the opportunity to kidnap their prince? Had he killed him, maimed him? Perhaps it had not been such a wise idea, leaving someone outside the Phoenix clan to watch over someone so direly important. Herb had given his word that he wouldn't as a dragon's descendant, and the word of the dragon was never broken, just as the phoenix could always see the truth. Still....... Herb was human born; his renowned temperament might have altered that.  
  
The sounds of snoring hit Kiima's ears, coming from the palace's highest peak: the prince's royal bedchambers. Determined to find out what was going on, Kiima flew like the wind, reaching the great hall and slipping up to the grand doors. Pressed against the room's imposing entrance, she peeked inside, via the cracks between the silver barriers.  
  
What she saw gave her such a shock she nearly began to molt on the spot.  
  
Her lord Saffron was in there, sleeping with Gyo his stuffed panda at his side, however that was not what caught her eye. There too, sitting on a stool and propping his arms and head on the side of the bed was Prince Herb...... who was also sleeping quite soundly.  
  
Opening the doors to give her a touch of light and creeping into the room, Kiima approached Herb. She tapped his shoulder: nothing. She shook his shoulder: nothing. Kiima frowned at the sound of Herb's study snore: a sleeping dragon, that was all she needed. Silently she slipped out of the room, and returned with a full glass of cold water. Behind her, Saffron's old retainer and Koruma watched the proceeds with a mix interest and fear for the outcome, while a short clicking sound was heard. Smiling softly at her slumbering lord as she walked up to the bedside, Kiima held the water at arm's length, tilted her wrist....  
  
.... and made certain to keep out of "lunging range" when a started Herb-chan awoke in an instant. Realization of the rude awakening dawning on her, she bared her fang, lips prepared to give the feathered captain an earful. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one awaken.  
  
"Auntie Herb?" Saffron began, opening his eyes slightly but remaining otherwise motionless.  
  
"Go back to sleep, brat." Somehow, the words didn't have the same sense of contentiousness that they normally did. Grabbing the top of Saffron's blanket, Herb-chan tucked him in a little tighter, before shooting a glance to Kiima, daring the captain to make any remarks. For her part, Kiima innocently whistled softly, finding a sudden interest in the ceiling tiles.  
  
Herb-chan snorted with some minor grumbling. The matter settled, she marched out the door with Kiima in check to seal off the room upon exit.  
  
Kiima was practically gloating. "Have a nice time?" she inquired, holding out a royally-stamped envelope with Herb's "sitter's fee".  
  
"Shut up." Herb-chan growled, snatching the items. With one last long look at the sleeper's bedchambers, she made her way out of the palace and started trekking towards her home.  
  
As she journeyed, she began to question her earlier actions. Why had she remained, to tend over Saffron when he started to slumber? She should have been furious, the brat had fallen asleep halfway through her tale! Yet, for some strange reason, as she, or more accurately, as he saw those small little eyelids shut, the child's breath becoming a soft whisper, he became entranced, bewitched. Saffron, for all the trouble he caused, all the tantrums he threw, all the chaos he created, slept like a little angel. In his sleep he was silent and defenseless; while deep within, Herb couldn't shake the need to watch over the little prince, to protect him from any nightmares lurking in the dark. Somehow, dispute the brave front he constantly wore, the child had wanted, needed him to be there. When he woke, it was his "Auntie Herb" he called for, not his faithful captain or retainers.  
  
Perhaps, Herb-chan silently amended to herself, the brat wasn't so bad after all.  
  
  
  
The dragon princess almost out of sight and the evening at it's end, Koruma approached his captain as they watched the outsider's departure. Koruma stretch his soar limbs; it had been a wonderful night. He had spent half the evening on the dance floor with a girl who's plumage practically shimmered in the moonlight. His partner, Masara, would be back soon, and given the quantity of alcohol he had consumed all night, was in for a heck of a hangover in the morning. The old man had been laughing at the bar, while captain Kiima enjoyed the attentions of more then a few patrons, as a rush started to buy her drink. All things considered, a good time was had by all.  
  
With Herb finally passing from view, Koruma took note of the vicious smirk running across Kiima's face as she twirled a miniature camera in her talons.  
  
"So, think he'll be free to do this again next week?"  
  


* * *

Author's Notes: This one came about while I was thinking about doing something with Herb vs Saffron. I remembered Saffron's (very, very adorable) baby form at the end of the Manga, Kiima's comment about playing "nursemaid", and that got the ball rolling.

Feel free to send any C&C to novawolf@roninfur.com

**FIN**


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